KathieLeeDoucheBag (Warning, this is mean, deservedly so)
I’ve said it before: I will never go on a cruise. It’s in my marriage vows. I’ve also said, several times and even very recently: I hate hate. So when I use the term to describe my feelings about something, it’s meaningful in a thoughtful, serious and an I’m-totally-not-kidding kind of way.
This afternoon, as in 13 minutes ago, which is why I probably sound so angry and mean right now—the seething emotion is terribly raw (deep breath, girl)—I watched a clip from this morning’s edition of the Today Show in which Heather Armstrong was “interviewed”—if it can even be called that—by Kathie Lee Gifford. Now, I don’t watch the Today Show because quite frankly, it sucks. As in, it sucks whatever soul the viewer has right outta her. Everything beyond the first thirty minutes is blatant mind control and the recent hiring of KLG was further evidence of their efforts to further dumb down the final-hour for the remaining common denominator.
Seeing this screeching shell of a woman on the screen again after all these glorious Kathie Lee Free years, only reconfirmed that I still despise her and, too, that I will never be a viewer of the Today Show.
In a nutshell (I have to be brief here as I’ve only got ten free minutes left), Kathie Lee turned the conversation toward herself (big surprise!), admitted that she doesn’t know how to use her computer (big surprise!), and that she’s not a fan of mommies blogging about their children (wtf?!?).
This judgment, from the woman who told the entire world over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and ov—you get the idea—for yeeeeaaaarrrrrrs about her lovely life with Frank and their darling little Cody and Cassidy and their ca-ca and their cooing and their drool and whatnot. This judgment, from the woman who knowingly had darling little children hardly as wealthy and privileged as her own, in a third world country, working long hours in sweatshops to sew her WalMart clothing line. The mind reels.
As I watched her, wearing a size Negative 12, seizure inducing polyester dress, screech her staccato laugh in Heather’s direction, stretching her tight orange face beneath her yellow fried hair in front of a pink back drop that made me think of maxi pads, I could only side with Frank Gifford’s choice to boink a flight attendant.
Kathie Lee should stick to Carnival Cruises and stay off the internets, where I’m bound and even tempted to run into her because I do so love to hate her. But no matter what, I won’t be going on any cruises.
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